Broken
by FanGirl16
Summary: He gasped out painfully, the burning not helping against his chest, making him flinch. Every movement hurt Marik, every breath agonizing. He needed to get away from this pain but he couldn't move. He needed Bakura. Thiefshipping


Broken

Marik sat against the wall, his hands created fists in his hair as he screamed. It hurt his throat to screech so much and at such high volume. However he had to let all his feelings out, his anger, sadness, all towards himself. It had all been his fault, letting Bakura slip through his tanned fingers like that. It had all happened so quickly, so how was he supposed to know how this argument would have ended? They had fought before, even resulting in violence sometimes. So why had Bakura stormed off? He hadn't even said a word when he had turned and slammed the door. It was startling that Bakura hadn't swore or lashed out as Marik had continued to throw the most horrible of insults. And Bakura had taken them all calmly. Marik was sure he had noticed a small swirl of sadness in the crimson eyes, but it had vanished soon after, taking Bakura along with it. Everything was just so hard to take in at that moment. Bakura had gone, truly gone and Marik was left alone once again. At first it didn't effect him in the slightest, until he realized that his friend was never coming back. That had seriously hurt him more than any violent fights could. Yet, he couldn't understand why it hurt so much. Hadn't he told Bakura to leave and that he didn't need him? Of course Marik had got that wrong like most things. He needed Bakura though he probably wouldn't ever tell Bakura. Partly because of his pride but also that Bakura wasn't coming back.

"Kura..." Marik murmured into his arms. His screams died down as the room seemed to grow smaller around him. His tanned arms wrapped around his knees as he shifted into a corner and rocked himself. To be honest he didn't know why he was acting so worked up about this. Even though he told himself repeatedly that Bakura wasn't coming back, he had a feeling, though small, that his friend was returning. He couldn't believe that Bakura was staying away. Didn't he always come back? Ever since they had become partners and moved in together to work against the soul of the pharaoh, Bakura had always been loyal. Despite his angry and violent side, he was actually a good friend to have around. Unfortunately that bad temper always got them into fights, but Bakura had never left before. He had always hidden away from the problem and ran to cool down. Marik accepted him back although the pale boy never apologized. However, it seemed that it would be a very long time until Bakura walked back.

It seemed like hours had gone by since the argument when in fact it had only been a few minutes. Marik pulled his arms tighter around himself as he leaned back against the wall. His head hurt, sure it was going to explode. His eyes slid closed, stomach growling at him but he didn't move. He was afraid even the slightest movements would break the sudden silence. It felt so empty without Bakura here. It was now too quiet, the air too still. It felt cold all of a sudden, and Marik wasn't sure if it was him or just the situation. He didn't like the cold, he wasn't used to it. Of course, he wasn't used to feeling so heart broken. Could he really call it heart break? Bakura had never truly been so close to him, but they had been friends. Marik was attracted to Bakura, sure, but it should never have broken him like this. In fact he shouldn't have cared in the first place. He should get up and prance around the house in joy that he was rid of Bakura. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Then why was he unable to move, to get from his trance like state?

Marik knew the answers, though he refused to admit any of it. He tried to push away all these old feelings, but they remained imprinted in his mind. He couldn't run away or hide from them like he had so many times before. It hurt to push them away because he knew they were true. Ishizu and Odion had explained to him what love was and the difference between it and lust. At first he had been very naive and confused by all of the information since he hadn't experienced it before. However, as he grew into a teenaged boy, Marik realized just what his siblings had been talking about with lust. He had been with many people through the years but nothing ever went further than activities in the bedroom. It was just pure lust. When it came to love, Marik had never really had anything to do with it. He loved Ishizu and Odion but that was different than being 'in love'. Plus it was hard because he had not been loved before. Again, his siblings cared and loved him with all their hearts. However, that was entirely different. They were the only ones who loved him, along with their mother. Unfortunately she had died whilst giving birth to Marik so he had never met her, never mind knowing she loved him. His father had never loved him that was for sure, so why not his mother being the same? Through the growing stages of his life, Marik had not been loved by his partners whom he had fucked with. His rare hunters had not loved him, though they had no reason to. That struck something as Marik's eyes slid open.

He was evil.

Villains never get loved or cared for. They are despised and spend their lives alone. That explained why he was never loved or he was unable to love anyone else. Of course meeting Bakura had changed his perspective of that. Bakura was also a heartless villain who loved no one. Marik was sure Bakura had never felt that emotion before, and that explained why he was so isolated. Though who could love someone like Bakura? He was violent, livid, and a downright asshole.

Meeting the angered spirit of the ring had sparked something in Marik. It had been excitement since Bakura was the first person to challenge him. And obviously, Marik adored a challenge. The first moment he noticed Bakura jump in front of his motorcycle really showed him how brave yet foolish Bakura was. At first it had been an innocent meeting and they had discussed their partnership to destroy the pharaoh. Only after moving in together did he realize just how close they were. Bakura had never admitted or acknowledged their relationship moving up to friendship. Marik knew by Bakura's softened moods that he appreciated having him as a friend. Ever since then, Marik had started developing attractions towards Bakura and realizing some foreign emotions he had never felt before. He had become jealous whenever Bakura decided to spend time without him, he had also become happier around the spirit. He experienced a more pronounce anger which lead to violence. It had almost made him sick with all these sudden flow of feelings but he had managed to control them enough to not cause suspicion. There was also the weird urge to lean in and kiss the boy if they were sitting close.

Now that really startled him. Even though he had done so with previous strangers, it felt wrong doing it with Bakura. It was probably because he knew him and they were so close. Whatever reason, Marik had prevented his moves. Instead he created the habit of biting his nails, allowing his mouth to do something else than press to Bakura's skin. His body screamed in protest every time which only caused fantasies between the two. To say that was awkward was an understatement. He had decided on most occasions to lock himself in his separate bedroom to masturbate. That helped, though he desperately wanted Bakura's fingers wrapped between his thighs than his own. He could never find it in himself to look the other in the eye afterwards. Strangely, Bakura didn't find Marik's behavior at all odd. Instead he would smirk and merely tease him about the moans coming from his room. Luckily Marik had been wise enough to shut his mouth when Bakura's name came up his throat while pleasuring himself. He'd just laugh nervously in response, immediately getting defensive.

Marik could tell that this kind of problem was not entirely lust and need for Bakura. There were the odd feelings of trust and contentment when around him. Truthfully he would not trust anyone, and it felt calming to lay his trust with Bakura. So, in conclusion, Marik deduced that he may be in love with the fool. It was very difficult to explain how he felt about everything. He was by far angry with himself for becoming so weak, but also furious with his friend. Bakura was so damn irresistible that it drove his hormones crazy. Why couldn't he have been stronger and resisted this love? Of course, he would never say it aloud. Damn him if he ever said the three words to Bakura! There was no way in hell, but wouldn't it be better to tell him? No. Bakura would go ballistic at the idea of being loved. He was unable to love or accept it.

Marik's heart throbbed at the fact he would be rejected. It was better to keep it a secret. He was not prepared to be laughed at again. Telling his father he loved him ended up with maniacal laughter and broken ribs. So that ruled out ever telling Bakura. The spirit seemed much more dangerous than his father. Marik sighed. Not like he was ever going to be given the chance. Bakura was never coming back, after all. His heart felt like it was bleeding, like every vein was expanding and about to explode. It throbbed painfully causing his body to numb only being able to feel the agony of heartbreak. Why did love feel so horrible?! Ishizu had explained that love was the most wonderful feeling, full of positive emotions. Marik didn't feel like that at all. He was in pain and it hurt to breathe. Filled with positive emotions? All he felt was sadness and agony! Oh, how he would lecture his sister when he saw her again. Marik squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth to prevent the screaming from ripping his lungs apart. It was hard enough to focus without Bakura's calm face in his head, the face that would haunt him from now on. He could see those luscious lips that begged to be kissed, the pale skin Marik could sink his teeth into. He could picture the crimson eyes clouding over with want, the white hair tangling in tanned fingers. He could just feel the warmth of the pale body pressed to him. The touches were soft and tender rather than rough and needy. The others hand riding down through Marik's pants to tease his hardening member.

Marik's eyes shot open immediately. How could he think of a fantasy like that at this time? It had seemed so strong and more real than any other ones he had had. He didn't need to feel awkward though because no one was in the house except him. Bakura was gone, history. Marik growled and parted his legs to stand and take a cold shower, except when he pressed his palms either side of him, his violet eyes caught a glimpse of gold. The blond eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to take a closer look. He was thoroughly surprised with what he found. The millennium ring sat comfortably on the floor in front of Marik. Bakura must have been in such a hurry to get away that he had forgotten about the ring, or he had dropped it whilst fighting. Marik wasn't sure which was more likely but he knew he disliked both. But maybe because the ring was here then Bakura would have to come back. The spirit couldn't be far from the ring for a certain amount of time since he was bound to it. Plus, he adored the ring due to the connection he had with it. Bakura had never told Marik about his past. He would rather face everything alone, and it was none of his business. However Marik could tell that Bakura had something awful involved with the items. It was hard dealing with all the secrecy considering they were working with each other. Marik raised a curious eyebrow at the golden object, crawling over to it. He didn't touch it. He knew better than messing with more of the item's powers. Marik was just glad he would be getting rid of the rod in exchange for Bakura's assistance. Unfortunately, due to his newly found love for the boy then it was going to be hard letting go. That is to say if he wasn't already gone. It seemed that he would just have to use the ring as another bargain for Bakura's company. The tanned boy smirked. Yes, Bakura liked a challenge. On the other hand, he could just keep the ring for himself. That way he would always have a part of Bakura with him. It seemed obsessive but that was how he had been brought up, obsessed with freedom, with revenge, obsessed with Bakura. It was definitely a fucked up relationship but it was the only one that was close to real. Bakura didn't feel anything for his partner but that didn't stop Marik from feeling something in return.

Marik's fingers reached out towards the ring. Maybe he would even figure out pieces of Bakura's past. That way he would be able to understand and help the other too. That was fair. He would feel closer to Bakura and maybe they could form some kind of connection. It didn't have to be love but he wanted to make Bakura feel something, even if it was anger. He hated seeing that stony, expressionless look on his pale face everyday, and it hurt Marik. He knew spells that Ishizu had taught him so he could probably cause visions or something to help him understand the ring's purpose. It was worth a try, plus even the presence of it felt like Bakura was there with him. It helped him feel calmer, his annoyance fading to a distant part of him.

Tanned, thin fingers grasped the ring with determination. His nails scraped the gold immediately causing the ring to hiss. Marik almost dropped it right then at the sudden noise. The rod had never spat at him like that before, but he realized that it must be because he wasn't the holder of the ring. It wasn't used to being held by a stranger and went defensive. It was also like it wasn't even an object with all the strange reactions. However Marik overlooked it all, instead focusing on the enormous amount of power that emanated from the trinket. He could feel the immense strength of it running through his fingers. It tingled, almost spreading through his veins across his body. How could Bakura deal with this power and not explode? It was almost painful. Marik glanced down at the angry gold with startled eyes. Bakura never said anything about this, wouldn't this have killed him by now? And Ryou for that matter. Ryou hadn't come out ever since they had become partners. Probably because Bakura hated the other him or Ryou hated both him and Bakura. That relationship was odd but Marik understood it, after sharing his body with his Yami. Marik shivered and narrowed his eyes at even thinking of his doppelganger. He was incredibly glad that he had been banished to the shadow realm and Marik was now free. Although he had to deal with Ryou's Yami now. Well...did. The boy gripped the metal tighter, stroking it lovingly as he slipped it around his neck. He knew it was wrong to wear another master's item but it was Bakura's. If it was important to him then it was important to Marik.

The gold swung against his chest, smashing lightly on his hoodie. Strangely, it felt even odder not having this gold pressed to his skin so Marik reached down and unzipped his violet clothing, revealing his bare flesh. This made it feel closer to him, and therefore closer to Bakura. He knew straight away how utterly stupid everything was, but having the ring so close made him feel comforted. Something he was sure he would never receive from Bakura.

The ring didn't seem happy about being worn and hissed, glowing angrily at Marik. The boy reached down and gripped the sides, forcing it still against his skin."Oh, shut up!" He snapped, glaring annoyingly down at the gold. Only after the words were out did he realized he was talking to jewellery. Marik's violet eyes rolled. "Is this what I'm reduced to? Talking to a friggin piece of gold?!" the ring flashed a dim orange in response. "So I'm going insane? After everything I went through, now I'm finally crazy?" again the ring hissed in understanding. Marik almost laughed. He had been reduced to chatting with an Egyptian artifact since his partner left him. It was sad, truly melancholic. This was so stupid. What was the point in him keep acting so pathetic? Drooling over someone he would never have, acting weak when that boy walked away, and then talking to a golden object! Marik snarled at his annoying love and grabbed the ring tighter causing another hiss which he ignored. That ignorance cost him as the ring began to flash a bright, angry red. Marik glanced down at it curiously, immediately releasing it due to the sudden heat coming from the gold. It scorched his fingers causing his face to screw up in a wince.

"What is your problem?!" Marik snapped at it. A low hiss escaped the gold, almost threatening. Marik would have took a step back, but he kept still, only flinching when the gold brushed his skin. It was beginning to heat up to an uncomfortable temperature, itchy against his tanned flesh. Marik could feel it burn his bare chest, stinging painfully across it. He quickly and carefully reached up to the sides and tried to pull it over his head. However he couldn't even get his fingers close enough to the gold before it spat burning heat at him. He cursed and moved his hands away from it, nursing the palms which were now tinged pink. Instead he moved his fingers up to the rope which, luckily wasn't hot. Due to grasping the burning gold it had caused perspiration along his skin. Marik tried to wrap his fingers around the rope clumsily, but the sweat made his hands slip.

"Fuck" Marik hissed. He was getting uncomfortably warm with the ring so close to him. It was too hot and burning his skin with every second that passed. He could feel himself getting tired due to the heat and it was making large beads of sweat drip down his tanned flesh. It almost felt like he was melting, every dribble of skin breaking away over his bones. Marik tried to push himself up, gripping to the wall for support. His head was beginning to hurt even more than earlier, especially with all the thinking he had been doing. It was just too much to take in so his fingers slipped from the wall, crashing to his knees. Marik grimaced at the feeling of them cracking beneath him. Again, he tried to reach up and pull the ring from him, wave after wave of unbearable heat hitting him. He needed water, to shower under the cool liquid but he was too weak to even move anymore. Instead he merely panted for the air around him, suddenly feeling like there wasn't any.

Like he couldn't breathe.

Marik choked, coughing violently as his throat closed up. It swelled too much and he couldn't breathe. His sharp nails reached up to his neck and clawed at it roughly, as if he were trying to rip it open to allow air in. It was actually like he was being strangled by an invisible force since he could feel something around his throat. He coughed again but it only caused the force to tighten. He gasped out painfully, the burning not helping against his chest, making him flinch. Every movement hurt Marik, every breath agonizing. He needed to get away from this pain but he couldn't move. He needed Bakura.

Marik glanced around the room desperately for some sort of help without moving too much. He would have sighed with relief when he spotted his mobile lying dejected on the carpet. He blinked down at it, reaching out one hand to hopefully grab it. Unfortunately his short arm couldn't even get close to the phone, besides what could he say? He couldn't even cough properly due to the restriction of breath. Still, Marik hoped that calling Bakura would help, his panting and coughs might be enough to alert the other to this danger. With those thoughts, Marik pushed himself further to reach for the phone. The force strengthened causing him to lose more air from his lungs.

"Shit...Kura" Marik hissed out as he tried yet again for the phone. He only exhausted himself as his arm was just too short. He let it swing limply back to clawing his neck. "Get back here...and...help me...asshole" the ring didn't seem to appreciate the insult as it lined itself up against Marik's chest, right above his heart.

A sudden sharp, ripping of his flesh made his eyes widen. The violet eyes dulled considerably at the immense pain that exploded across his chest, along with the blood. Red liquid squirted from his heart as the ring's spikes buried themselves into Marik's chest, deep in his beating heart. The pain was incredible and Marik screamed. However the strangling force pressed into him so all he could muster was a silent shriek. Blood began to ooze quickly from the puncture wounds, spraying the dim walls red. Marik stumbled on his knees, losing his grip on everything at the quick loss of blood. His nails scraped along the walls for support as he swayed. The blood dragged grotesquely on the furniture the more Marik's fingers painted the room. The stench of copper swept through the room, causing Marik to heave. It disgusted him how he let this happen to himself. This must be why Bakura was the only one who could wear the ring. It accepted him.

Marik was sick, he retched in the corner along with the blood. His stomach convulsed inside him as the chunks of his food came back up, burning his throat even more. He tried to curse and scream again as the spikes began to twist in his chest. A small squeak escaped his lips followed by several wheezes as he struggled with the breaths. His face began to change to the favorite shade of violet, eyes glazing over at the lack of air. Another choke escaped him as the ring burned, its spikes pulling out more blood as they twisted. The pain was unbearable, and Marik would have expected he would have died due to all this torture. Now, he was almost begging for death, this was no where near the pain he had with his father's brutality. This was matching the violent and rough scraping of the rod as it ripped his back open. It burned so much, even more so that it was so close to his heart. One poke and he would be dead. Marik snarled and lifted a finger, ready to jab a spike to kill him. He couldn't deal with the throbbing blood loss and burning. It hurt too fucking much! Marik's finger moved closer, but a sudden wave of agony hit him as the spikes shifted closer to his heart. The blood squeezed itself from the wounds, flooding down his skin. Marik couldn't hold it anymore and screamed. He screamed to the gods to help him, to set him free again. At one point he even begged for them to kill him and send him to paradise where he could be free from this pain. How could anyone be given this thing? Did Bakura have to ever deal with this? Bakura. He needed his partner now more than ever. He needed him. Marik's eyes widened as the spikes dug deeper in his chest. Tears finally began to fall from his lids, trailing down his bloody cheeks and washing the floor. He had never cried like this since the initiation. In fact, he had not cried at all since then. He had promised he would never cry again due to weakening himself and causing his Yami a way for control. Even when he had gone, Marik hadn't cried. He hated feeling so pathetic and vulnerable but he couldn't stop himself. He allowed the tears to fall with narrowed, violet eyes. He desperately needed Bakura here with him, to hopefully cure him from this pain. The spirit would know what to do, however Marik couldn't get in contact because he was too damn short. With a deep, strangled breath Marik threw his head back urgently and screamed as loud as he could. The spikes shifted again making his voice break mid scream. Still, he let his screech echo around the empty room, shaking the glass of a nearby window. "BAKURA!"

"Marik!" Bakura snarled as he carried on down the road towards the house. He must have dropped his millennium ring while going out so now he had to go back for it. Doing that would also mean facing that idiot again which he did not want to do. Marik was such an insufferable brat and he just couldn't deal with what Marik wanted all the bloody time. The boy was so insistent of having his own way and swelling his ego, and Bakura had finally given up with the Egyptian. Marik had given a fair fight when Bakura had started to ignore him, and he had learned that Marik hated being ignored. He required constant attention, that was when he had come out of his bedroom. He had started locking himself away which was odd behavior but Bakura dismissed it, guessing the boy had found a new activity. Bakura smirked at the thought, but it disappeared when he turned the corner, revealing their shared house. Marik had insisted they start a partnership and live together which Bakura found suspicious, but it was quite enjoyable having company. Not that he would ever tell Marik that. The boy's pride was already swollen enough without Bakura chucking more at him. Instead Bakura kept the comments to himself and merely nodded or smirked in response. Marik was none the wiser, and Bakura wanted it to stay that way. Especially now that spending so much time with Marik had started poking attractions at him. Bakura had not been attracted to anyone or anything before and it was very difficult dealing with such things now. Particularly when it came to Marik.

Bakura spent all his time alone, that was how it always was and always would be. However the sudden emotions he had felt when around Marik were both uncomfortable yet warming. He had not felt anything after the massacre of his village and had never planned to. Marik obviously changed that, but Bakura couldn't understand what had drove him to like the other. Marik was spoilt, annoying and a downright brat, yet Bakura had feelings for him. Of course, he would never know of Bakura's emotions and desires of them together due to his requirement of loneliness. He was so used to being alone that being with company startled him. He couldn't focus on his own plans or concentrate on anything except Marik. That could be the fact he had feelings for him, but Bakura just dismissed it with a hiss.

How could he feel this...whatever it was...with Marik? The boy was insufferable yet drove him crazy with want, and the boy had no idea. Bakura had accidentally leaned forward many times to pull their bodies closer but Marik had immediately run off to the bedroom. At first Bakura had teased him about the situation and moans he had heard from there. Afterwards, though, the matter had become so frequent and natural that Bakura didn't find the masturbation funny anymore. He would glance at Marik with slight amusement before ignoring him again, stopping the awkwardness between them. He had realized Marik needed his space as much as Bakura did, but strangely he had felt closer to Marik. They had only known each other for a while but Bakura felt trust between them, and knew he could open himself up. He never did though. Showing weakness only caused Marik to become more egotistical, and that was the last thing they needed. Being alone and isolated while Marik was locked away did give Bakura more time to think though. He had hated himself so much for the sudden lust felt mind, conjuring up scenarios of the two fucking. It was not unpleasant at all, but the fact it was Marik made him sick. In his thoughts, the boy was a magnificent god like male, whose eyes were dark and half lidded. The tanned face was a show of pure ecstasy as Bakura thrust into his ass deeply. Bakura had snapped from those thoughts in half a second, regarding the noticeable lump between his legs. Knowing his predicament, he had spent the rest of his time in the bathroom. Luckily Marik hadn't even noticed.

It was strange how he could think up all these fantasies and not have the courage to make them reality. Bakura was incredibly brave and fearless but he had never been able to run his fingers across Marik's skin without it being suspicious. Was it the fact he was worried about rejection? No. He wasn't scared of anything, and yet he couldn't even lean in and kiss the boy. His chest ached at the lack of skin against him, odd because his heart was dead. His heart had not beaten in three thousand years, but it was painful to breath.

Bakura couldn't even explain how he had felt leaving through that door earlier. He had almost collapsed to the floor after finally leaving, but it was so, so agonizing. He had actually felt Ryou's heart beating in his chest controlled by his own feelings. The moments he had spent in this body had been useless since he had no reason for it. Now though, he could finally feel the blood burning in his veins, his heart beating. He was aware of his dry lips, his sudden hormones. Bakura had been with plenty of strangers in his past life to rid himself of sexual needs. However, facing Marik had brought all those needs back to him. He needed the bastard Egyptian but he was unable to make a move. He couldn't think of how he used to do it and swoon the women and few men. He had only used them, but Marik was much more than a mere stranger. The boy was as close to a friend that he would get and he didn't want to hurt him. Sleeping and leaving wasn't something he could do with Marik.

The boy was fragile despite his strength and muscled body. Bakura was afraid to lose the one person who had finally been able to make him feel alive again. And Bakura liked being able to feel this way, though he would never admit it out loud. Secretly, it seemed he needed Marik, and not just for the sex.

Bakura growled and stormed up to the front door, not bothering to knock. He was not about to fall soft because of Marik! How could he even think of all this stuff and feelings? He promised himself that he wouldn't leave after getting his ring. He was not going to be alone again because it just ended up with him thinking up this shit. Instead he would distract himself with Marik even if that made things awkward between them. As he thought those plans, he turned the handle of the wooden door and swung it open wide. He immediately stopped breathing.

Something was wrong. Bakura could feel the strangeness in the air as soon as he walked through the threshold. He could smell a strong coppery stench mixed with sweat and it just felt wrong. Marik was supposed to be here but he couldn't hear anything at all, neither could he sense the boy. That was definitely not right. Marik couldn't have left the house so quickly after Bakura had left. The spirit glanced warily around him, unsure whether to venture into the rooms or not. He considered shouting out to Marik but that would make him sound desperate and worried. Bakura did not want to start looking weak just because he admitted to having feelings for the other. However, those feelings and concern were increased when a deafening scream reached his ears. It was urgent, screeching from down the hall and into the main room. Bakura didn't hesitate as he shot from his stiff position at the door. His pale nails scraped the wallpaper as he passed by many of the doors. The scream of Bakura's name continued as he let his legs carry him to the source. The worst part of it all was that it was Marik's voice screaming for him. Bakura knew that the Egyptian wouldn't ask for his help unless it was urgent, and by the noise, Bakura knew this was serious.

The pale boy turned the corner, fingers gripping harshly to the open door of the living room. Immediately his deadened heart shot into his throat at the scene before him. It throbbed harshly and painfully as his crimson eyes swallowed up the sight of blood. Red painted the walls and splashed messily on the carpet, almost flooding the room and drowning him in the coppery stench. Piles of vomit lay in the corner mixed with scarlet, thick blood. How could a body contain that much? It was insane, even he couldn't remember ever seeing so much before.

Marik knelt against a bloody wall, leaning heavily on it as his scream was cut off. He struggled to gasp out another, instead grasping his neck as if strangling himself. His back was facing Bakura, head thrown back. The spirit noticed how dim and lifeless Marik's eyes were and leaped forward with a hiss, more blood splattering out of the others chest.

"Marik! What the fuck did you do?!" Bakura growled as he skidded on his knees through the blood. He pushed a palm onto the floor to turn his body to the other to find out the cause of so much blood loss. The Egyptian definitely needed treating otherwise he would end up dying, and damn him if he thought that was acceptable. "Marik?!" the boy was hysterical as he tried to scream, not seeming to realize what was happening. Bakura shifted closer and grabbed the tanned shoulders sharply. He didn't touch Marik's hands since they refused to move from his throat. Marik didn't notice the other as his eyes were unseeing, blank as they remained wide and unsettling. "Look at me dammit" with that order, Bakura moved his hand up and cupped Marik's cheek to turn the boy's head. Marik's eyes instantly snapped to Bakura but he still didn't focus on anything except gasping and choking.

Panicking slightly, Bakura glanced down to Marik's chest where he noticed the ring. It stabbed continuously into the tanned chest, brutally wounding the other. Knowing he couldn't very well rip it from Marik's heart without him dying, Bakura grasped the side with his free hand. His bloodied fingers left red handprints on the gold as he carefully maneuvered the spikes away from the boy's heart. The ring seemed to acknowledge its master's presence as it calmed considerably at Bakura's touch. The spirits within the gold whispered and hissed harshly every second Bakura held it. Obviously knowing that the boy wasn't letting go anytime soon, the ring spat and its glow dimmed. Bakura almost sighed in relief when its spikes removed from Marik, lying limply in the pale hand.

Deep puncture wounds decorated the tanned flesh, crimson dribbling along the chest and coating his hoodie. Bakura stared at the way the sticky red trickled down, skin revealed to him so he could freely lick along it all. The boy shook his head violently at all the lust filled thoughts in such a situation and instead carefully reached up and pulled the ring off. He untied the rope with strong fingers and slipped it around his own neck, knowing it was safer there. He noticed as soon as the gold was off Marik, the Egyptian's eyes came back into focus and he coughed violently. His lips parted to gasp and pant as air finally made its way back into his lungs. Before Bakura could even open his mouth to demand questions, Marik's hand created a tight fist. The knuckles came up at lightning speed, punching straight into the pale jaw.

Bakura's hand came up to the bruised flesh as he growled dangerously. "The fuck was that?"

Marik coughed again, raising his eyes to the others mouth with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't...expect that...asshole?"

"I expected some gratitude after just saving your skinny ass" Bakura snarled. He gently rubbed along the skin, coating it with the blood still on his fingers. Marik scoffed though much too weakly. Another choke racked his chest causing more blood to escape. That was exactly what they didn't want. Bakura gritted his teeth at the state of his partner and crawled closer, ignoring the glare sent his way. Pale hands carefully grabbed the others sides and supported him as Marik coughed again, blood spraying between them. It dripped from the caramel lips, ruining the lusciousness of them.

"What the...frig are...you...doing?" Marik hissed as he was pushed down onto his back. Bakura towered over him with a furious face.

"What the hell does it look like? Shut your damn face and let me work" Bakura's fingers came up to the chest, slow caressing at the wounds before him. Marik squirmed though it was painful and useless.

"Get the...fuck...off...me" Marik growled weakly. Even though he knew he was much stronger than Bakura, he was too weak now to even push the boy off. However the feeling of him so close to him was too enjoyable to move. The fingertips running on his skin were soothing and he wanted him to do it more. He shifted closer despite his words earlier. Bakura didn't notice and instead growled down at the other.

"What did I tell you? Keep still" Marik refused again and instead coughed, body convulsing and arching upwards. Bakura hissed at the feeling of the younger body against him, but the choking was worrisome. Bakura stopped his movements and watched his friend's chest spit out more blood, shaking as the coughing continued. Marik gasped, pain excruciating in his chest and throat. Both were incredibly sore and throbbed under Bakura's gaze. The crimson eyes widened when even more blood decided to splash from between Marik's lips. Pale fingers rubbed it away, lingering on the bottom lip more than needed. He pulled his thumb away quick enough hoping that Marik might not have noticed. Of course, the boy had taken interest in Bakura's soft actions.

"When...did you...start caring...about me?" Marik asked, his voice wavering as the deep scarlet blood escaped him. He could feel the intense pain and he tried not to show how much he was suffering by teasing. The constant winces told a different story though. Bakura took notice of it but didn't bother saying anything, more interested in the deep, fatal wounds.

"I don't" Bakura quickly answered, gritting his teeth together as he hunted around for something to bind the skin together. Marik raised an eyebrow, his vision beginning to darken.

"Then why...are you so...worried?" the boy asked with a small pained chuckle.

"What makes you think I'm worried?"

"You...never pay...this much...attention..." Marik was cut short by another explosion of blood through his mouth. It made him sick, tasting the amount in his throat. Bakura was instantly beside him placing a thin finger to the bloody lips.

"Shut the fuck up" he commanded as his eyes trailed to the hoodie still hanging from Marik's shoulders. He pinched the fabric. "And take this off"

Marik scowled at being told what to do as he tried to control his breathing. "You take...it off"

Bakura's eyes lightened at the order of skimming the flesh again and undress the other. However, the fantasies were clearly inappropriate at this time. Instead, he growled and roughly gripped the fabric, pulling it off the boy's shoulders. He missed Marik's grimace at the sudden movement. Tanned fingers gripped onto Bakura's wrist when the pain increased causing his vision to blacken. He couldn't see Bakura or the blood that decorated the room. Everything was too dark, reminding him instantly of the tomb where he spent his initiation. This was the worst bit of it all. He hated being back there and he admitted that it scared him so much. Gripping onto the pale wrist was the only thing keeping him sane, allowing him to know he was not alone during this. He had Bakura.

Said boy felt Marik's fingers squeeze him as he tied the hoodie securely around the chest. At least then it would stem the flow of blood whilst he searched for bandages. However, the touch stopped him from going anywhere. Despite Marik's condition, he was still bloody strong enough to keep Bakura in place. The spirit glanced over at the others face with a raised eyebrow. It dropped at Marik's fearful expression with wild, dim eyes.

"What are you doing?" Bakura asked. Marik's gaze shifted, searching for Bakura's face. He couldn't even get a glimpse of white or red at all. Everything was dark and black, like his eyes were clamped shut. However he knew that they were wide open, he could feel them blinking up at where he assumed Bakura to be.

"I can't...see...a damn...thing" Bakura's eyebrow raised at that.

"What?" Marik's chest rose painfully as another round of choking hit him. Blood sprayed onto Bakura's shirt. "You're making a mess. Do you realize how much this shirt cost Ryou?"

Marik couldn't help but laugh at that, although it killed him to do so. Even in a situation like this, Bakura could find it in himself to be so...mocking. More blood stained into the shirt in response. He just wished he could be able to see that arrogant smirk of his to match the words. Marik couldn't believe how much he missed Bakura even when he knew he was there. His fingers gripped tighter as he coughed again. All at once his head began to spin, pain flashing in the darkness of his vision. He groaned loudly to hopefully get the others attention. The pain was increasing but strangely his fingertips were numb due to loss of blood. He tried squeezing harder on the wrist but he couldn't feel it anymore. Panicking he repeated Bakura's name in desperation to know he was still there.

Bakura gripped onto Marik's cheek, forcing his blank, violet gaze onto him. "What is it?" Bakura asked in a sort of urgency. This didn't look good and he had no idea how to fix it. Knowing the cause was helping him stem the blood but what could he do after that? Marik was still going to bleed and be in immense amounts of agony. Marik's eyes locked onto the crimson, concerned eyes. At first Bakura was sure Marik could see him, but the eyebrows creased and he looked away.

"I'm cold, Kura" Marik nearly whimpered. Bakura had never seen the boy so terrified before. It was almost contagious as Bakura was feeling fear wash over him at the blank eyes. This was definitely wrong and Bakura was stuck, helpless. He instead pushed down the fear to be replaced by anger. He pulled the boy's face closer so they were level before hissing.

"No you don't" Bakura snarled as he searched the other eyes for life "Keep your eyes on me"

Marik's eyes widened at the command and remained still, trying ever so hard not to blink. He had no idea where he was looking but trusted himself enough to follow Bakura's voice. He was weak and tired, the energy dribbling out with his blood. Marik pushed himself though, hoping that he could make it through. Bakura would sort this out, he was going to stay alive and fight. However, his strength failed him, pushing his eyelids down. Bakura growled at this and lightly shook the boy to get his attention.

"Keep those fucking eyes open, dammit. You are not leaving me" Bakura almost screamed it to the boy. His anger flared brighter when Marik didn't respond, his body limp and heavy. He almost reminded Bakura of a puppet, dancing for his entertainment. Though Marik's unmoving form was not entertaining in the slightest, especially when covered in all the blood. "Marik!"

Marik's eyes drooped further but his moan was enough to tell Bakura he was still alive. There was no way he was letting the boy die like this. If anything he would kill him for making Bakura act so out of character. He wasn't sure how this would effect him, but he wasn't ready to lose Marik yet.

"Look at me" Bakura tilted the boy's head up. Marik's eyes began to open when he could hear his friend's voice. He was too weak and just wanted to sleep. His body was numb, the pain dissolved by it which he was very grateful for. But not being able to feel anything but cold was almost worse. He felt as if he was cut off from everything due to not being able to see. He had lost everything but Bakura's voice could be heard through the numbness. Marik held onto it, not ready to give up. He needed Bakura and wanted him close to him for comfort. Though Bakura had never been the comforting type, Marik could hear the panic and softness in his tone. So, Marik forced his eyes open wider and almost gasped at the sudden white that enveloped his vision. He reached a hand up to cup Bakura's cheek, hoping that the touch would be felt. Marik couldn't feel the skin under his fingers but he was able to see the concern bubbling in crimson eyes.

"I'm...looking" Marik said quietly as he stared straight into Bakura's eyes. He had forgotten what they had looked like since his vision had blackened. They were beautiful ruby orbs embedded in a porcelain face. Marik's thumb trailed across the flesh, missing the feel of it against his own. Marik's eyes shifted to the skin under his fingers to help his imagination on how it must feel. Bakura watched him. He wasn't sure what Marik was doing, sure the loss of blood was effecting his mind. However, Bakura stayed still allowing the hand to caress his face. It actually felt nice, but Bakura shook his head. This was not the time for ogling.

"You see me?" Bakura asked with a curious gaze. He noticed the thumb falter its movements for a moment before Marik's eyes met his. He nodded weakly, eyes blinking as his vision began to blur. Bakura growled at the state his ring had put Marik in. He couldn't just sit here and stare, hoping the boy would recover on his own. He had lost too much blood already, and the small coughs brought more up. Bakura's eyes left Marik's and scanned the room, trying to find some medicine or bandages. He didn't know any human ways of fixing up the wounded. In the past, his wounds were treated by old leaves and herbs. It was obvious that wasn't what was used anymore, instead bottles of liquids and pills. He had no idea what should be used in this situation except bandages. He looked to Marik for help, but the boy was too far gone now. There was no way Marik could do anything anymore. Instead the spirit spotted a first aid kit on one of the shelves in the bathroom. The door was wide open as if it was calling to him. Bakura had seen Ryou use these kits when he had cuts or bruises so it was something that could possibly bring Marik to health. Only, he wasn't sure if he could leave the boy again, even if it was a few seconds. But he had to go so he could save the idiot. Bakura made to turn, pulling his face away from the tanned fingers. Marik's eyes widened in slight panic at the lack of feeling.

"Where are you...going?" Marik asked, his eyes narrowing at the back of Bakura's head. He reached for the pale arm to keep him near. Bakura twirled around again to glance at the weak form beside him.

"Bandages" Bakura answered "Let me go"

"No" Marik's grip tightened though he was still unable to feel it. "You are...not...leaving me...again" he could feel himself slipping, all his mind jumbled as he tried to focus. It was difficult to see, to hear. His fingers were still as he wasn't sure how to move them. He didn't bother trying now. Instead he merely thought of Bakura, placed all his strength into Bakura. He would have smiled if he knew how to. He watched his friend's lips turn up into a snarl, teeth bared in anger. The scarlet eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room as Marik glared back.

"Let me go. Why are you being so stubborn when your life is hanging by a thread? Do you want to die?"

"Of course...not!" Marik coughed at the force of his words. His throat was swollen making it even harder to breathe. He knew what was happening, he was smart enough to figure it out. He was dying and there was nothing any of them could do. Bakura had been after bandages but what would that accomplish? He had lost so much blood that it had emptied him. He was merely a shell whose soul would soon be gone too. But he was actually ready for this, not to say he liked or wanted it. Marik accepted his fate and knew that, cheesy as it was, that he would die happy in Bakura's arms. He could not be saved, but there was still the one thing he needed to do. He told himself how he would never say it to Bakura but when could he? This was as good a time as any.

Bakura's eyes narrowed further into slits. "Then why? Why do you insist I stay?"

Marik's eyes dimmed but there was still a determination hidden deep within them. The boy lifted a hand up to Bakura's neck, pulling him closer until they were breathing the same air. "Because I fucking love you, that's why" he hissed before pressing their lips together.

To say Bakura was surprised was an understatement. Never before had he been so shocked and unprepared. His eyes widened into ruby saucers at the force of being pressed so close to the other. Tanned fingers tangled into his white locks as he drew them closer still. Bakura was stuck, unable to move as he processed what exactly Marik had just confessed. How could he love Bakura? It was absurd, but the spirit's heart once again beat madly in his chest. It was painful feeling that after his heart hadn't beaten in so long. It hurt but he was able to deal with it. He had been hurt so many times before that he was used to the pain. However this was laced with pleasure that he couldn't explain. Bakura had not felt love or been told he was loved before. It was new and he wasn't sure whether he liked new. He was unable to love and was not used to having all these emotions exploding inside of him. It was too much but he dealt with it like the pain. He would have pulled away with anger flaring again, but the sensation of feeling was wonderful. The warmth against his lips was foreign and exotic but he could definitely grow used to it. If he could deal with the pain, then kissing was no problem. Especially when the kiss was stolen by Marik.

The boy moaned against Bakura's lips, whether from the pain or pleasure was unknown. Nevertheless, Bakura watched Marik's expression to figure which it was. The tanned face was pained but relaxed as his mouth moved tenderly. He pulled back without opening his eyes only to smash their lips together once more, sharing small kisses. How Marik still had the strength to do this was amazing, and Bakura respected that. The spirit's fingers brushed along the boy's bare arms, keeping him in place and stopping the kisses. He held them together, lips still connected in a long, slow movement. The skin under him was warm considering how cold Marik was feeling. It was almost intoxicating how smooth and soft the flesh felt, even coated with blood. Bakura's fingers strieked that red along Marik's biceps, leaving it painting the gold arm rings. Marik's fingers instead tangled in the white hair, creating sticky strands. Bakura didn't care though. The feeling of Marik finally pressing up to him was beautiful causing his crimson eyes to slide shut. Now he could concentrate on the movement of his lips than watching everything. He could allow his mind to wander to whatever he wanted to imagine as he kissed Marik back.

Bakura crawled closer, almost climbing atop the other in an effort to be as close as possible. He kept them together, unsure whether to pull away or give in. The latter was more promising as he forced his tongue out to lick along Marik's bottom lip. The boy moaned allowing the tongue to invade his mouth. They could taste blood instantly, mingling between their tongues as they battled urgently. Marik's breath hitched as Bakura won and let his tongue dance against his teeth. The blood continued to mix with the saliva, dribbling from their lips and down their chins. Bakura allowed his fingers to scrape gently down Marik's arms, groaning as he pushed the boy down. Marik's eyes fluttered open to reard Bakura's flushed face, his body weak in Bakura's arms. They were blank, lifeless while staring past the pale face to the ceiling. Bakura didn't notice how Marik's lips stilled, tongue stopping its motions as the kiss continued. It was only when Marik's hands slipped from his hair and the body fell heavy and limp in his arms did Bakura realise what was happening. He pulled away, string of saliva hanging from their parted lips. Marik's head rolled back, blond, sticky hair falling back with him. Bakura caught the boy before he could slam into the floor, supporting him by the shoulders.

"Marik?!" Bakura snapped, eyes widening at the lack of response. There was no coughing or blood dribbling from the mouth. There was no breath. Bakura hissed, shaking the boy roughly in an attempt to rouse him from this daze. Marik remained lifeless, a corpse being shaken by a heartless spirit. "No! No, no, no!" with each word Bakura constantly shook the body with enough force to break bones. It was disrespectful but Bakura never thought anything of it. Shaking was all he knew to wake Marik up. He even resulted in slapping the boy's face which only caused more blood. "Wake up, dammit! How dare you say you love me and then leave me here!"

Marik's eyes rolled back as if mocking Bakura. This only angered him further. "Get back here. Fucking bastard! Come back to me!" the other again didn't respond. Instead merely growing heavier in the pale arms. He was more like a doll which Bakura could do anything to. Soulless, a shell. "Keep your eyes on me" Bakura reached a hand to the back of Marik's head, pulling it so he could see the boy's face. It was calm but too still, emotionless. Bakura didn't like it at all since Marik had always had some sort of expression. His eyes were always bright and teasing but now they were dull and dead. "How dare you do this to me"

Bakura's eyebrows lowered as he pressed his mouth back to Marik's. The lips were no longer warm like they had been, pale and dry considering their earlier kiss. His lips were still parted and unmoving as Bakura kissed him. There was nothing left, no response or breath at all. There was no point so Bakura pulled back again with hopeless eyes. There was nothing he could do now since Marik was gone. He held the boy close though, regardless of his empty corpse. Bakura rocked them both carefully making sure that no more blood would leak out of the boy.

"You're a selfish brat. Making me stay just so you can leave me right after telling me you love me. Why?" Bakura peered down at the body "You tease me and then kill yourself!" his pale fingers came up and trailed along the freezing skin. It didn't feel right at all since Marik was always so warm. His fingers brushed some blond strands away before gently closing the violet eyes. He looked much more peaceful now, the eyes were eerie unblinking. Bakura growled. "What do I do? If you don't come back then I'm coming to get you" his fingers faltered on the boy's face. Instead they tilted the chin up so their faces were closer together. "I hate you" Bakura grasped tighter to the chin, running his thumb along the dry, bloody lips. "I hate you so much" despite his words, Bakura leant down and crashed his lips to Marik's once again. It was only short but he placed as much as he could into the kiss. It was almost like the fairytales Ryou used to know. Of course this was reality and a mere kiss couldn't wake their lovers from the dead.

Bakura sighed, placing the other gently to the floor. His fingers worked their way over to the hoodie which was soaked through with blood. His pale fingers immediately coated themselves with it as they dealt with taking it off again. He knew it would only make Marik uncomfortable wearing it like that, plus it looked so damn ugly. Once it was off and gripped tightly in his hand, Bakura threw it across the room. He watched in satisfaction as it landed haphazardly in the puddle of blood. That wasn't going to be washed anytime soon. God how he hated that thing. Bakura shook his head in distaste, bringing his attention back to Marik. The boy's features hadn't changed but what did he expect? Marik was dead, after all. He was never coming back.

Bakura allowed his fingers to trace the edge of the deep cuts, mixing the blood with his flesh boredly. He had to admit that he was truly stuck, and his heart was threatening to explode in his chest. It was so painful, swelling along with a lump in his throat. This had not happened to him before, except once. When Bakura had watched his village burn, and family suffer. His heart and feelings had reacted just like this and he just wanted it all to end. He wanted to die along with them so he wouldn't be alone. Only now, with Marik gone it seemed much worse, the sadness increasing with every passing second. He wanted to scream, punch every bloody wall until he was the one bleeding. However, he just sat still, letting his fingers feel every inch of Marik.

Who was dead.

Bakura growled, eyes widening as he tangled his fingers in his hair. He tugged harshly on the strands until he could feel some yanked from the scalp. He let them drop into the blood, white drowning in crimson. "Marik, what do I do?" the boy snarled as he threw his head back. What had he done before? Hadn't he been stuck in this situation one before. Ah, yes. He had found his sister, burned in the village fire. He had escaped to the back of the dunes with her in his arms but she was already a dark, blackened corpse. Of course, being so young, he hadn't seen death before so how could he have known. Traveling through the desert he had tried reviving her with water and herbs, but she was already gone. Her soul had been sacrificed so there was no way to bring her back. However he had tried despite this...with magic. Magic and spells which he still remembered by heart.

Bakura's eyes snapped to the body before him, bloody and broken. This was the same predicament and Bakura him,d actually do something. He wasn't helpless. Growing up in Egypt had taught him the defences and spells for revival. And luckily he recalled the perfect one. Bakura actually managed to grin as he crawled closer, hands reaching out to press against Marik's wounded chest. His left hand pressed to the boy's forehead. Bakura winced at the freezing temperature of the flesh now. "You are not leaving me that easily, Ishtar" Bakura smirked evilly as his head bowed to stare at the boy's closed eyes. He was not letting Marik go now, even more so now he knew the idiot loved him.

Bakura's lips parted as he leaned even closer, impossibly close. "May I have power in my heart, may I have power in my arms, may I have power in my legs, may I have power in my mouth, may I have power in all my members" Bakura paused a moment to hold his hands harder on the boy's skin "may I have power over invocation-offerings, may I have power over water ... air ... the waters ... streams ... riparian lands ... men who would harm me ... women who would harm me in the realm of the dead ... those who would give orders to harm me upon earth" the spirit's mouth closed as the spell ended. He panted for breath when his chant finished, eyes widening in curiosity at Marik's form. The boy was still unmoving, no breath or twitching. Bakura growled at the lack of response. There was nothing, but Bakura had never performed this spell before so he didn't know what to expect. He had wanted more than this, though.

Bakura's fingers ran down to the other's shoulders in desperation. "Marik! Come back, you bastard!" the fingers tightened, leaving nail marks in the flesh. He repeated his earlier actions, shaking the body roughly in hopes of his eyes to snap open again. For even an unexpected punch, but there was nothing. "May I have power in...my..." Bakura trailed off in defeat. Marik was truly gone and even magic couldn't bring him back. He was always destined to be alone. "Marik!" Bakura shook him again, the swelling in his throat increasing the longer Marik stayed limp. "Look at me" his crimson eyes widened as he felt a small wet trail escape his lids. It fell down his cheek, and it felt horrible. Wet and foreign dripping from his eyes. How dare the boy make him cry! Bakura never cried. And yet the tears continued to fall mercilessly onto Marik's skin.

"MARIK!"

Bakura's eyes shot open. He panted as beads of sweat rolled down his face. The spirit cursed at his concern as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. The place was dark and cold due to his curtains being drawn, but window wide open. He ad needed the breeze to cool himself ever since he had started the habit of falling asleep. Bakura had never been to sleep before, he had never needed to. Plus he had trained himself to stay awake in case of threats nearby. Of course, he knew there were no threats when living in this era, but Bakura had gotten used to not sleeping. He wasn't human so he didn't need to rest. Besides, he never did anything to ware himself out anyway.

Only now, Bakura had started getting weary and falling asleep in the soft duvet. And everytime he did, his sleep was plagued by the same nightmare. He growled and rolled from the sheets to stand facing the door. His sleep was awful and he always woke in the middle of the night anyway. He couldn't understand why he had started sleeping in the first place because it was worse than staying awake. Another growl escaped his lips as he grasped the door handle and swung the door open wide. It crashed roughly to the wall, leaving a noticeable dent in the paper. He couldn't care less though. This was Ryou's house so he could pay for repairs. Bakura ould do whatever he wanted in this shit building and get away with it. He actually managed to smirk as he made his way through the hall to the opposite room. It soon dropped when his scarlet gaze met the living room doorway. He turned away immediately so he wouldn't have to imagine what might be in there. Instead he reached his hand out to pick the lock of the other bedroom, making sure to be as quiet as possible. When he heard the satisfying click, Bakura's fingers gripped the handle and teased the door open. It squeaked ever so slightly, but Bakura crept in anyway. It seemed lighter in there than his own room, since the curtains were open and a few candles lit in the corners of the room. It was much more peaceful, and Bakura found it easier to stay distracted and awake in here.

Bakura closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it again. He honestly wasn't sure why he locked this room, maybe it was to keep everything in here safe. He shrugged at his thoughts as he took his usual seat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his fingers in the lavender silk covers. Bakura didn't have such expensive bedding in his own room, though he would have liked it. Honestly there was no point in it because he never slept and hardly spent his time in there. Only these recent days did he realise how much his room helped him think. In this bedroom it was the opposite, he never thought in here since he never had the opportunity. He had also started coming in here for a change, it was quieter now.

The pale fingers played with the covers for a while, listening to his breath as he let his eyes close.

"Back again? You can't seem to leave me alone" Bakura grinned as he opened one eye to stare at the curious violet gaze.

"How are you feeling?" Bakura replied as he hunched forward, turning to sit more comfortably. Marik watched him with amused eyes, a smirk lifting his lips. The boy's skin was paler than usual, eyes dim but open.

"Well, considering how I died..." Marik chuckled with a cat like grin. The covers moved as the boy turned his body to the side. Bakura's eyes narrowed.

"And I brought you back. You should be more grateful, Ishtar" Marik scoffed with a raised eyebrow.

"I can't believe that stupid spell actually worked" Bakura rolled his eyes at Marik's response. He was always so stubborn and couldn't accept anything. Much like him, actually. Marik shifted again, pushing his palms under the covers to help him sit up. The duvet slipped from Marik's shoulders allowing Bakura the sight of a brutally scarred chest. Five beige scars were the most noticeable in the middle of the bare chest, right above the heart. Bakura's eyes trailed up the luscious, caramel skin to the boy's face. He watched in amusement at the wince and flinching of Marik's body everytime he managed to move.

"Come now, Marik. I thought you were tougher than this" Bakura laughed at Marik's cringe which seemed purposeful. Marik was such a bloody drama queen. To reply, a pink tongue darted out mockingly from between the bronze lips. Bakura chuckled, leaning closer to grip the boy's neck. He pulled Marik almost impossibly close to him before pressing their lips together. This kiss was not like the memory Bakura had seen when sleeping. It was needy yet soft and tender, their tongues dancing in swift movements. It was a slow, careful kiss that still showed their desperation. Bakura groaned as Marik's fingers slipped under his shirt. The boy had been surprisingly needy these past few days of recovery, needing every form of physical contact. Bakura wanted it so much, using every opportunity to kiss the boy's skin and tease the flesh. No wonder he had no time to think in this room.

Bakura licked upwards, poking Marik's mouth with his tongue repeatedly. Feeling his mouth being invaded, Marik moaned and bucked into the other's hips to bring them closer. He hated not being able to feel Bakura's skin due to the covers and clothes. Yet even if he removed them, Bakura had forbidden sex until he was recovered enough. He couldn't even breath without it being painful. Still, he had agreed, partly because of how protective Bakura had been since reviving him. He even resulted in locking the door to keep him safe, though it was nice having privacy. Marik missed Bakura so much in the day when he refused to come in. It was only in the night when Bakura visited, claiming he had trouble sleeping. Marik knew Bakura never slept so it was confusing for him. Though the pain had made it hard for him to sleep too, so having Bakura present was like a miracle. Especially with all this attention Bakura was giving him. It was even better this night because Bakura had visited twice already. Why Bakura didn't just stay in this room during the night was unknown.

Marik reached up to Bakura's pale chest, running warm fingers down the skin. Feeling the flesh he had longed to touch was wonderful, he only wished he could touch more. Marik allowed Bakura to jab his tongue playfully. Marik responded in grabbing the other's bottom lip between his teeth. Bakura groaned, feeling his boxers grow tighter as Marik pushed further. He eventually pulled away from the kiss, panting for breath before placing kisses along Marik's neck. The boy hummed in appreciation.

"I hate you" Bakura murmured into the skin "I hate you so much"

"Love you too" Marik smiled as he reached up to tangle both his hands in the white hair. He pulled tightly on the strands causing Bakura's face closer to his neck. Bakura's eyes drooped as his body weakened due to tiredness. Marik could feel the change and smiled, removing Bakura's face from him. Instead he placed several more kisses to Bakura's lips before pulling him back down into the covers. Before Bakura could respond, he lay the spirit down and curled up to him with a smirk.

"What are you doing?" Bakura asked curiously as Marik wrapped his arms around the boy's waist.

"What does it look like?" Marik laughed as he nuzzled closer to the chest, resting comfortably with Bakura's warmth. A white eyebrow raised.

"I don't cuddle" Bakura growled, trying hopelessly to force the stubborn idiot off him.

"Then you're going to have to get used it"

"I never knew you had a soft side" Bakura commented, unconsciously pulling Marik closer.

"I don't show this side to just anyone, you know" Marik chuckled as his eyes slid closed. Dying and coming back to life definitely wore him out. However, having Bakura here with him was incredibly comforting. Even though most of the night would be spent staring at Bakura's chest, it would be the best way to spend a night. The boy's fingers gently came up and rubbed the dark bruise on Bakura's jaw. It looked painful but it had been true that the fool deserved it. Marik snuggled closer, almost gasping when he felt Bakura's arms wrap around him. He smiled into the material of Bakura's shirt. "Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep"

Bakura grinned as he settled comfortably in the bed, eyes closing at the warm weight on top of him. He couldn't explain the warmth he felt inside his chest as he felt Marik fall asleep against him. This time, he wasn't afraid of the boy not waking up because he knew that Marik was with him always. The spell had worked and they were together at last. Bakura couldn't tell Marik how he felt, but actions had always spoken louder than words for him. So Bakura shuffled down, pulling the duvet to Marik's chin and kissing his blond head. For once, Bakura was able to fall asleep without the nightmarish memories plaguing his dreams. They were not alone nor broken.


End file.
